“Star Magazine is really stupid”, says Emily.

I agree with her and was proud of my 11 year old for making that assessment on her own but I was still curious as to the reasoning.

“Oh,yeah.How come?”, I asked.

She held up a 2 page spread showing “The Worst of the Week: Fashion Violators!”. She pointed to a picture of Diablo Cody,wearing a red & white print top,red skirt,argyle socks and black shoes. “That looks like something YOU would wear,Mom. And look…she even has the same shoes!And socks!”

Yup, Diablo Cody & I have the same exact black shoes and argyle socks.We both wear them with skirts that do not exactly “match” and I’m pretty sure she cares just as much as I do that there are people in this world that label us “Fashion Violators!”. With an exclamation point.

I just wish I had a cool name like Diablo.

——————————————————————————————
I forgot to post these days ago….
More Twelve Word Reviews

Into the Wild- I get an emotional lump in my throat whenever thinking about it

I am Legend - In the future, people don’t know who Bob Marley is. That’s unacceptable.

“Hey there Delilah” by The Plain White Ts - Maia’s new favorite song she listens to over and over again. Sweet.

Avett Brothers “The Ballad of Love & Hate” one of my new over and over again songs.It’s just beautiful.

La Vie en Rose- French singer becomes addict to forget the pain.And knit better.Superb

Blades of Glory -Jon Heder should play a girl in his next film. Semi-funny stuff

Dewey’s bloggy challenge, Weekly Geeks has now begun with the first week’s theme being: Discover New Blogs Week.

Here’s the rules:

1. Look through the list of blogs on the Mr Linky below and see if you can find five that are new to you. If you can’t, find as many new blogs as possible and then some you don’t read super regularly.

2. Visit those new blogs. A comment would be nice; people like comments.

3. When you’re ready, at some point by Friday if you want to be included in the blurbs next week, write a post in your blog featuring those new blogs you visited.

4. Don’t forget to come back here and leave a link to your post, so that I can get it into the blurbs!

So,here are my new blog finds

Jelly Jules

She got my attention by posting XTC’s “Dear God”. One of my favorite songs from the past,I must say. Plus, she uses the F Word.

Heather: A High & Hidden Place

A fellow list lover,kid-photographer,mom-who-somehow-finds-time-to-read.

This Book is For You

We share some of the same thoughts on Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight. At quick glance, we also share similar taste in books,overall.

Dancing Alone

The latest post is a Dylan Thomas poem, who I am fond of ,obviously (he’s my son’s namesake) That’s good enough for me

Somer

She liked Stardust. She can’t be all bad.

I confess….

1. I like Panic at the Disco. Yes, I’m a little embarrassed, but with insanely catchy songs that heavily reference Chuck Palahniuk,I can’t help it.

2. If I didn’t have kids,I’d probably be an alcoholic. You know it’s a bad sign when you open up the fridge in the morning to get milk for your coffee and see that there’s still beer in there and you seriously debate just having the beer instead of coffee.Luckily, I love being a sensible mother more than I love my Guinness.

3. When we’re out walking and come across a storm drain, I tell my children there are evil clowns down there that will eat them if they go to close. I know. It’s mean. Fortunately, they’re smarter than that.

“There are no clowns down there! It’s just water.”

This week I decided to do some  things.

I decided that I’m going to write/create a collage novel that is not disjointed and surreal. It will actually make sense to someone other than myself and won’t just be something cool to look at when you’re stoned.

When I started using eyes cut from a Dolce & Gabbana model to use as windows in a building and cutting out dresses from INStyle Magazine to dress animals from Ranger Rick, I realized I probably wasn’t going to succeed.

I informed Bob of my plans. He said,”Great!”, like he was trying to be a good encouraging husband who supports every creative endeavor I pursue. Then came the addition of,”And how about the 300 other works in progress you’ve got going on?”.

Yeah,yeah.I know.My ADD gets the better of me. As I explained to him,”I’m a Pisces”. To which he replied,”You don’t even believe in astrology. Why do you always use your Piscesness as an excuse for everything?”

“Pisces are highly creative and have nonlinerar thought processes and short attention spans  and that in itself is THE creative process.”, I told him.

“You just made that up,didn’t you?”

Yeah,pretty much.

So.I decided to finish one of the 300 other art & writing projects I’ve had going on for gods-knows-how-long. While pondering which one to dedicate (most of) my time and attention to, I realized I was a little chilly.I went to grab a sweater but couldn’t find one that didn’t look stupid with what I was wearing.

I decided I needed a new lightweight cardigan, a black one that matches with everything. I unearthed all my knitting patterns and found the perfect one and started knitting.

Luckily,I have a lot of black yarn. Remember…I have a kid and a husband who wears nothing but black socks because as the song goes,“Blaaaaack socks,they never get dirty….”

(Oh…that’s right I started knitting a pair of black socks last weekend for Dylan. One is done. I guess I should decide to finish the other one….)

Also,after getting allllll the laundry in the house done (doing laundry for 7 people sucks, just so you know…) , I decided we all have entirely too many clothes. I decided that everyone was only allowed to keep what would fit in his or her dresser. Right now, the kids literally have drawers overflowing and are using clothes baskets as additional clothing storage space, as well as having them piled in stack on top of dressers and whatever flat space they can find. I decided the nice clothes will go to the consignment shop, the still good-with-lots-of-life-left-in-them clothes will be Freecycled and the rest will be turned into rag balls , used for reconstructed fashions or just cannibalized…

Cannibalized? I didn’t mean to write that.I meant scavenged. Scavenged for zippers,buttons,elastic,fabric,etc.

Anywhore…

After deciding this, I didn’t do half bad . Except…

18 years ago,I started saving baby clothes from each of my children. Not special clothes to pass on…just clothes that had a special  memory attached to it or just some that when i look at them they evoke that motherly sentimental feeling of childhood past. I’ve been saving these things to make a quilt - MY quilt. Everytime I go through the children’s clothing, I add some to the box labelled “Mama’s Quilt”.

By the time I was done sorting clothes,the box was  overflowing and broke. This led to me searching for a new bigger box. After failing,I decided it was time to convert the outgrown threads of childhood into hexagons. Afterall, scraps fit into a box easier than the entire article of clothing,right?

It occurred to me while cutting up fabric that I should really incorporate more fabric into my collage art so I decided that’s what I will do.

After knitting the second black sock,of course.

I should also mention that at some point during all of this,I decided it was a good idea to turn old vinyl records into flower pots. It was a good idea. Some of them turned out wonderfully. Some of them….um…well, I forgot i was making them and left them in the oven too long. Vinyl accidents aren’t pretty.

I sometimes feel like I am living,“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie”.

Yesterday schools here were closed due to an incident in a bathroom with an explosive and bomb threats. A fellow homeschool mom commented to me,”Boy, sure am glad we home school.”

Well, I have the best of both worlds,I guess - I have kids who attend public school and home school. Even though this incident occurred in the junior high, I had heard last night that all students and any adults entering the school would be searched, even elementary and high school. It looked like we weren’t going to avoid the drama.

This morning I walked Maia to school, as usual. As we approached the school, we saw extra security positioned at the entrances of roads leading to the school, in addition to our friendly and familiar crossing guard who greets us every morning with,”Good morning” and “Have a good day,sweetheart”,as he stops traffic and lets us cross. Getting closer to the school, there was obvious police presence. Maia, who is usually skipping way ahead of me, clutched to my arm, obviously alarmed.

Instead of jaunting in the usual door and heading straight to her classroom, we had to go to a specified checkpoint. Her backpack was searched,revealing just her gym sneakers,a library book and her homework folder. Children were being let off the school buses ,one bus at a time and fed through the checkpoints,all backpacks carefully searched.

As we entered the school, a third grader turned to me and said,”Well, that was scary”, with a nervous little laugh.

Indeed. My own first grader was aware of the reason school was closed yesterday.She wasn’t the least bit afraid to return to her school today but the extra precautions made her more nervous and afraid instead of reassuring her.

I’m reminded by my husband who has a background in law enforcement that these precautions are necessary and it’s better to be safe than sorry. A part of me understands. Most of me doesn’t,especially if this procedure will become a part of our daily routine. Since it was announced yesterday that all students would be searched and security measures would be put in place, everyone was aware that it was going to happen, including the student who started the whole hullabaloo in the first place. I doubt he/she would decide to carry on with additional threats. Most likely, this student passed through the checkpoint, had their backpack searched and passed through with a smirk on his or her face, pretty pleased that his or her actions created such a stir and inspired fear in fellow students and even little first graders who just wanted to skip to school in oblivion.

In addition to heart-stopping antics children provide, there is always potential of injury induced by things left laying around. Like,for instance, one could get caught up on a hula hoop laying on the kitchen floor,fall flat on their face and skin their knees,break their big toe and tweak their already-injured wrist.

ow.

I watched the funeral procession approach Main St, their headlight blaring in the bright sunlight hoping to light the way into dark a little easier. My giddy babbling conversation with my three year old ceased. It seemed disrespectful to be enjoying the company of a loved one and the beauty of a sunny day in full view of mourners.

I didn’t know the woman who died.In a town this small,though,even if you don’t know someone directly, you do know someone who does. My understanding is that her life was full,she was loved and she died before she should have - struck by a car while jogging. The procession was long, a testament to the fact that many were touched by her passing. A police car was positioned at the corner to direct traffic and hinder the seamless flow of mourners in their communal journey to the cemetery.

Moments before,my three year old was content splashing in puddles as we made our way to the library, while babbling on about how he was doing The Train Birthday Dance. Then he saw the police car, it’s lights flashing like a beacon for a little boy’s endless curiosity. Before I could stop him, he dashed into the street. Involuntarily,I screamed. Startled,he halted,looking back at me innocently with a simple query of “What?”. He struggled as I grabbed his arm to keep him from progressing on his path to ironic fate but I wouldn’t for the life of him and me let him go on.

He was oblivious to the oncoming car screeching to a halt, the driver thanking her God that both she and the child had stopped soon enough to miss collision.Oblivious to the police officer standing dazed with his hand over his heart ,showing that police training doesn’t mean dick when a 3 year old nearly gets struck by a car in front of your eyes. Oblivious to the mourner in the car gasping as her eyes met mine with a pleading to keep him safe. Oblivious to his mother behind him,panicked with fear at losing him and feeling like a failure for not keeping him perpetually and unconditionally safe.

The procession moved on to bury their loved one. We crossed safely to a place of learning, one of us having been reminded that the invisible tether between ourselves and our loved ones is never short enough to keep them guaranteeds safe and the other one just excited to find a book about trains.

Watching a three year old go about his business is fun.

He meanders around the house,busily doing something.The “something” isn’t quite clear sometimes and I have to ask,”What are you doing?”. As he arranges random objects on the kitchen chairs and moves them one by one to the fireplace…and then back again to the kitchen table, he matter-of-factly says,”I’m cooking bananas for everyone.”

His sister sits on a chair.He yells at her,”Get off the kitchen counter! I’m cooking bananas!”

Then he moves on to some other mysterious activity that requires he run around the house,stopping periodically to crouch down and let out a maniacally laugh. A literal “Mwahahaha!!”.

All this is done while naked. He’s very anti-clothes these days. One morning I dressed him in cute little blue cargo pants and a yellow Ralph Lauren polo shirt (Thrift Whore Score: 75 cents) and felt very accomplished that something was done and out of the way. Minutes later, he was naked .”What happened to your clothes??”, I asked. “I want to be naked.”

It occurred to me yesterday that if I acted like my three year old,I’d either be arrested or committed to an insane asylum. To test out my theory, I walked through the kitchen,stopping periodically to crouch down and let out a maniacal “MWAHAHAHAH!”. The girls’ were pretty sure I’d lost it (finally)  and the hubby yelled from the other room,”What’s going on in there?? Quiet!”

Then I cooked imaginary bananas,played with dinosaurs and  celebrated with jubilant laughter at some unknown amusement that only he was aware of.. I did however keep my clothes on while doing it.

I found that it’s very liberating to behave like a three year old,even if you look like a complete loon while doing it.

My family now thinks I’m insane BUT they’re rather encouraging of my little experiment. A little too encouraging. In the evening, we went for a family outing to get ice cream and the hubby kept encouraging me to mimic The Little Guy’s amusing antics. “Go on! Run around in circles and flap your arms like you’re flying! Do it!Do it!”

If nothing else, it makes people laugh when you act like a three year old. A lot. That’s always a nice feeling - to make people laugh.

On today’s agenda: pretend to be Batman,dig random holes in the backyard,look under rocks for bugs and maybe do some puzzle-dumping. Busy day.

——————————————————————————–

The gorgeous weather and Nina Simone’s “Feelin’ Good” inspired this embossed handmade paper I made yesterday:

It’s now for sale in the Etsy Shop.

With more to come! This design was fun to make

Today is the start of NY ComicCon and unfortunately,I am here and not there. There’s a long,funny story as to why I’m not there and here instead but it’s one of those stories that involves lots of background information,explaining inside jokes and generally makes me look like the biggest dork ever so I’m not sharing. Elements of this story involve sleeping on a park bench in Harlem, possible marital infidelities, my huge mouth saying things it shoudln’t (and my general social awkwardness) and potential of being served a restraining order.

See? It’s better if I don’t share.

I regret that I will miss the chance to say to poor Neil Gaiman, “Ohhhhhh, your poor face! Can I kiss it and make it better?”. And of course have the chance to hear him read but whatever.

It’s probably better that I’m here and not there.

So, my exciting plans for this weekend include:

(Are you ready?? I’m warning you….they’re SO exciting. You might not be able to handle it. I know I’m just frothing with anticipation…)

Weekend Plans

Finish knitting sensible black cotton socks for Dylan (the only kind he wants me to make for him)

Make seed starter pots out of newspaper

Plant seeds in said pots

Catch up on laundry

Figure out how to get Popcorn Butter Stains out of my new linen skirt

Spend countless hours between the playground, playhouses in town and the backyard watching the kids play while I socialize (or not) with other people with similar weekend plans.